


Foxes Are Vermin

by sweetasamuffin



Series: Brilliant Blue Daisy [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Bad Michelle, Canon Compliant, Good Dad Eggsy, I suck at tagging, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, One Shot, Overcoming it tho, Trauma, let me know if ive missed anything!, oh boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 13:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetasamuffin/pseuds/sweetasamuffin
Summary: Daisy wants to meet her mom.Eggsy's there to help her.Aka Eggsy n Daisy work through some old feelings and Eggs, Harry and Merlin are good Dads!





	Foxes Are Vermin

**Author's Note:**

> this!!! is really messy, unbetaed, and mostly just a feels practice but go sh. I love the idea of eggs raising Dais n aaaaaaa please enjoy

God, he knew this had been a mistake. 

He'd known it from the second his Daisy had asked him. He'd known when he'd told Merlin. Told Harry over the sounds of Merlin's muted cursing. He'd known it as he took her hands and pressed her training bruised knuckles to his lips and agreed with rising panic in his chest. 

He'd known the second his vision blurred red as he saw his mother step out of an old, familiar yellow car. 

He breathed slow and smooth, the only sign of his stress being the tighter grip he gave to his little girl's hand. 

She returned it with a shakier, colder sigh. 

Michelle looked a mess. Her once beautiful blond hair was ratted, greasy like she'd showered for the first time in weeks. He cursed his kingsman skills for urging him to notice the bruises on the inside of her arms and the twitching to her once wedding ring adorned left hand before she'd even stepped through the diner door. 

Daisy, poor Daisy, stiffened next to him. She could see it too. Been raised to see it. But god, she must have seen what Eggsy was dreading. She'd seen how Mom used to be beautiful. Used to be someone who could brighten any room she walked in and never failed to make at least one lucky person smile. She could see how she was a near splitting image of the face her mother used to have. 

Other diners gave Michelle worried glances, whispering exactly what he thought they would, upon her mangled sight. Her smile was watery, thin. Like the excitement of seeing her children again was overshadowed by a need he knew far to well would always consume the woman who'd made him and the light of his life. A need that she'd step on their heads to wrap her arms around the temporary solutions to quell it for even a night. 

One that he'd broken his back trying to shield Daisy from one too many times. 

Harry and Merlin were talking just off his glasses; voices soothing but muted in the rush of angry, bitter, sad blood filling his ears. His mother was talking, he realized distantly. Her voice was a broken mask; a beautiful porcelain doll bashed against a dirty curb filled with cigarette butts and drunk man wastes. 

"Look at you- Look how big you two have gotten!" Her pride was a sour, seeping thing. Like winning an award for a competition you despised. Like a sticky substance gunking up your fingers and smearing disgusting ringlets that picked up lint with every swipe to remove it. "Eggsy- Eggs, is that facial hair? Never did fit- fit-" Her lip wobbled and Daisy, his perfect, lovely Daisy, cleared her throat to save them both the pain of hearing her speak of his father. 

"Mich-"

"Mum. Im yer mum, yeah?" 

"Michelle." Fuck, he was so proud of her. "Do you know why I asked you here?" 

Their mother looked broken, eyes watering at not having her, /his/, daughter call her what she wanted. It made his stomach roll when she made that horrible sniffling sound. Quiet, suppressed. Just mute enough to not draw attention but just thick enough to make her kids pity her. A trick he'd learned to ignore. A trick he'd taught Daisy never to fall victim too. A trick he'd never, ever think of playing. 

"Y- Eggsy's friend-" 

"My /husband/," He corrected and it was Daisy's turn to be proud as he kept the hiss from it. 

"Yes, yeah. Eggsy's husband. He said y'wanted t'see me. Get t'know me proper, yeah?" Her words were stuttered, cut short and jumping forward like one of Harry's warped records that he refused to throw away. "See yer old mum like you never could. Never- Weren't ever'llowed ta-"

A familiar shadow cast itself over the table at the perfect time and both the Hart-Wins took slow breaths in relief. Harry kept a perfect, cool face. Not that Michelle would have noticed him to begin with. She had barely recognized him a decade ago when he'd helped Eggsy pack Daisy up and leave that too cramped, too suffocating flat that stunk of Dean and crying sex. Only those walls would know how many braincells she had left within that shell of hers. 

Once they had their things and her too thin, too fucking thin hands were wrapped around a cuppa that he paid for, they felt it safe to talk again. 

"How've you been, baby?" She asked, the bags under her eyes hanging heavy and sunken under once beautiful eyes. Blue eyes that now shown glorious and proud within his sister's, daughter's, strong features. "You look just- just like me. C'n see it. Splittin' image, you are."

"I've," Daisy took a sip of her own drink, pondering the question with a traveling gaze. He knew where she was looking. He knew the second Merlin's soft 'You got this, lass' breathed through his left ear. When her attention came back to their mother, that adorable scottish undertone weighted bouncy and thick in the back of her throat. "I started high school a year back. Skipped'a couple grades." 

Eggsy found himself grinning over the rim of his own mug at the boast. "Damn straight." 

Michelle swallowed a glug of her own drink, watching the small interaction with something he could only compare to choking jealousy. He knew by the shake in her shoulders and the loud clatter that was the cup hitting the table a bit too hard, that things were gonna spiral. 

"Yeah? Din't- Didn't know tha' was possible fer us Unwins." Her voice, her humor was horribly forced. Like she's tried to test the waters by throwing ice cubes into it. Like ice sliding down his spine and making him pause to pop his knuckles. "Let alone fer a Bak-" 

"She aint ever been a Baker." 

"I'm not an Unwin or a Baker, Michelle." 

The woman across from them sat back, little stripes of dirty, dried out hair falling from the messy bun she had it in. Anger, hurt, disgust. They filtered across her face in slow succession; cheeks growing red as her remaining thought processes took in those two hard, rapid blows to her ego as fast as they could. 

"First off-" She croaked, like a dying frog. Like a toad come to lecture you for stepping in a puddle. Loud and utterly pointless. "You have no- no right t'say tha' bout Dean- Say she aint his girl-" 

He opened his mouth to say something. To scream. To cry. To tell her exactly how wrong she was. Dean wasn't there to take her to catch up kiddie classes so she could go into second grade at a normal age. Dean wasn't there to help her through her quiet phase; to hold her when it broken and she wouldn't stop screaming till her throat was raw. He wasn't there to pick her up when she fell off her first bike. To kiss away her tears the first time she got scared by JB's barking and taught her that it was okay. That loud things didn't always been screaming, crying, and shattered glass. 

He wanted to dig his hands into the table till it snapped. To shout it into the empty cavern of her heart that Dean had never been Daisy's father. That Eggsy God Damn Hart-Win had. 

A small, warm hand came to rest on his forearm and all the fight drained out of him like a pulled plug. 

Daisy was smiling at him. A soft, strained thing that said so much about how strong a young lady he'd helped her become. About the morals Harry had taught her as he put her on his shoes and spun her around their tiny living room. About the compassion Merlin had gifted her with each kiss to her tear flushed cheeks every time nightmares plagued her dreams or a bad scene on tv triggered feelings Dean's existence had branded across her soul.

They didn't have to speak for him to know what she was offering. What she was trusting him with. 

He bent to kiss her forehead, taking her hand with a squeeze before letting it go. 

Harry met him by the bathrooms and held him through shaking, wet sobs that left a wet patch on his borrowed uniform. Harry slid his fingers into his short hair and scratched dull nails over his nape; whispering soft words of pride and affection until the only sign of his breaking was the redness around his eyes and the wrinkles in the shapes of his hands were imprinted on the hem of Harry's apron. 

\---

Later. 

After their mother had thrown and shattered her mug on the ground for some unseen reason and Daisy, his strong, perfect flower, had stood up and simply strode out without a second glace to their mother's manipulating sobs. 

After Harry had made them all hot chocolate and their cups had long since been refilled and refilled. After Merlin had washed all the dye from shorn short blonde hair. After a crushing hug resulting in more than one stained indigo shirt and far too many tears. 

Later, once the tv was playing some nonsense they'd seen a million times and he had his two husbands snoring loudly into each other's shoulders. Later when he was pinned beneath several too chubby dogs and his now beautifully blue hair colored daughter. Later he found himself smiling stupidly at the snot bubble old JB was blowing on Daisy's back and whispered into the quiet air of their too small living room.

"Thank fuck I didn't hit that fox."


End file.
